Since I moved from Fargo, ND, I have resided in a small town south of Nashville, enjoying a rather scenic commute to and from the big city. Just over two weeks ago, my roommate/landlord told me of plans for family needing to move in, thus leaving me with a choice: To find a new place before they come and settle in or to stay and endure the many changes.
At first, I did not want to leave. With so much in other areas of my life being up in the air or falling apart in various ways, I considered the house a blessing of peace and familiarity in the midst of chaos. A safe haven. My home.
So, I prayed. Hard. And God changed my heart. No, I did not want to leave, but I understood it was best if I left and allowed the family dynamics to play out as they need to without me. I saw the potential for being more of a hindrance than a helper.
God also provided me a place to live, quite miraculously, with friends in Nashville (Antioch, actually, but basically Nashville). It is an awesome place in a great location and even has a touch of the country feel, at least on the drive there. My roommates/landlords are friends I met through church and some of the most fun, friendly, genuine people you will ever meet! There is no doubt of God's hand and blessing.
My struggle, however, is how much I miss "home." That house in the country with wild blackberries, fields and hills, horses and cows, fireflies and stars, neighbors you can rely on, and a roommate who enjoys putting on a good party as much as I do.
I want to go back.
But I can't. Not at this point.
I'm floating with nothing to grab hold of but God. But maybe that is how it is supposed to be. Something to grow me into who I was designed to be so I can serve the purpose I was made for. Once again, my mom had a few profound words of wisdom... She said,"You've been in that place for nine months. Birth happens after nine months. Perhaps you are being reborn into something new or a new stage of life." A Renaissance, of sorts. I always did like that era...
No comments:
Post a Comment